Mother’s Day without you

ByJoni Bouchard
Holding you close always and forever
Holding you close always and forever

Mothers Day, Sunday, May 12, 2013 (721 days)

Dear Will,

It’s not an easy day for me. I woke this morning and tried a couple of times to get out of bed, but I just couldn’t do it.  I took the Kleenex box back to bed with me and stayed there all morning. I am trying to find happiness in remembering all the Mothers Day’s I had with you; the breakfasts in bed, the dinners you and your brothers and Dad prepared, the handmade gifts you made at school and the most beautiful handmade cards that I loved more than anything. I have saved them all.  I considered them treasures always but now that I will never have another from you they are more precious than anything I own.

As I write you this letter I am sitting on a blanket beside the rock and your tree at Heaven’s Gate; the place where we lost you forever almost two years ago.  It is both so very sad to be here but in some ways, comforting too. Memories of that day and the fun you were having here are as crystal clear as if it were yesterday and in the quiet times in between the birds chirping and a squirrel behind me in the forest chattering away I can hear your laugh and your voice. But, in the next breath as the tears trickle down my cheeks I, too, remember how it all came to an end and our world was changed forever.

Before I sat down I opened a bag of wildflower seeds that I brought along with me and sprinkled it all around the rocks and the base of your tree. In a month or two from now I am hopeful that I can sit here amongst the wild flowers; this spot already beautiful but a little closer to heaven I think with a mix of wildflowers shining their faces up towards the sun during the day and bowing their heads at night as if praying for another day to keep you company.

I am in no rush to leave this little place of heaven on earth. I will finish up the cup of tea that I also brought along before I pack up the blanket and my iPad and head back home.  Dad and your brothers are going to put together dinner for me this evening. We will talk about and remember the Mother’s Days when you, too, were at the table with us.  And we will all miss you so very, very much

Love you, little one.  More than a bus.

Momxo

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  • Poppies in Heaven

    Poppies in Heaven November 11, 2013   Dear Will, Today is Remembrance Day.  The day we wear a red poppy and remember all who sacrificed their lives so we can live in a country free of war.  I think of the families and the sadness they have had to endure, the loss of their loved ones… fathers, sons, grandfathers, daughters, etc. and the choice they made to serve our country so we can enjoy freedom.  Freedom that sometimes I think we take for granted and shouldn’t. I think about the Remembrance Day assemblies at school and how touching and beautiful they were and continue to be.  I remember when you were here and how the school assembly would sometimes bring me to tears as I watched you and your friends, and your brothers when they were still at Banded Peak, pay tribute to our Canadian soldiers.  I remember explicitly how you could go from being a rambunctious, fun-loving boy who needed to be “gently” reminded at every assembly to settle down, to be quiet, to listen… to needing no reminders at the Remembrance Day assembly.  How you’d sit on the gymnasium floor with your eyes and ears wide open taking in the words, the music, the message.  I remember how proud I felt of you and of everyone in our school for being attentive and respectful when it was so important.  This assembly is still one of my favourites, Will, as it renews my sense of faith in people, young and old, and gives me a chance to really appreciate the country we are so fortunate to call home. You must know, Will, that at every school assembly my eyes always find their way to your school jersey (your favourite number, 8) that is framed so beautifully above the volleyball banner that the school team you were a part of won the year you were taken from us.  It hangs there with the words “WillPower” above it as a tribute to you.  Each time I look at it I am reminded of the good in people, of the love that is abundant in our community but also of the fragility of life.  At the Remembrance Day assembly I shed a tear for all who had lost their lives fighting for freedom and I shed a tear for you knowing that you lost your life having the time of your life.  Now, if that’s not an oxymoron… I miss you, Will; all day everyday, and all the soldiers in heaven have loved ones who are missing them too.  Can you do me a favour?  When you see a soldier up there, please take their hand and say “thank you”.  I can just imagine you up there sporting a big, red poppy today.  Just like me down here.  And that makes me smile. Hugs and busses,   Momxo

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  • Biking for Freedom… and Candy and Ice Cream

    BicyclesTuesday, April 24, 2012 (11 months and 2 days) Hey WillBilly, I got a new bike today.   And I parked it right beside yours.   Side by side they stand next to each other like a mom and a son… mine taller than yours, but not by much, just like the height of you and me.  I am reminded of how important it was that you and your brothers had your bikes; a boy and his bike went hand and hand, like peanut butter and jam.  It always made me so happy that we chose Redwood to call our home; a rare place in a world that is so busy; and a place where boys and bikes could be best friends.  I think back to the freedom that came with being able to ride your bike to the park with your friends without a parent.  What a right of passage, a momentous adventure it was for each of you.  And then to be able to ride to Bragg Creek for ice cream or candy (or both!?)… well, that was the ultimate in freedom at twelve years of age and, in fact, was what you did on that Saturday afternoon of your last weekend with us.  You and Matt rode into Bragg Creek returning with a bag full of “sugar” from the candy store; the little white bag still sits on your desk with the candy you were saving to enjoy later.  You were funny that way; always spacing out the candy consumption – saving bits and pieces for another time, another day.  There were times, Will, (cover your ears!) when I had to throw out some of that candy for fear of it going bad.  For a long time the chocolate Easter bunny that you received last Easter sat on the floor beside your desk, package open and one ear missing because you liked to eat it that way, and I had to throw it out.  You never noticed… or you never said anything and well, I have a hard time believing that you’d have let me throw it out without making a kafuffle.  I can hear it now, “Throw away candy!  Why, Mom, would anyone ever do that!?  That should be against the law!”  Hmmm.  I did win that time… because, like I said, I don’t think you knew. So, now I have a bike too.  Wheels to freedom for me?  Well certainly not in the same way as it was for you, but it will be nice to ride to Bragg Creek along the path to freedom that you enjoyed and then beyond to the beauty of our bigger backyard west of Bragg Creek.  I will always take you with me on my bike, Will, and when I stop for ice cream it will be for you.  I’ll order mango; your favorite. Love you like a bus and all those bike rides to the candy store and for ice cream. Momxo

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  • September and Socks

    img 1592
    Will, Brent and Jordan.
    Friends Then, Friends Still

    Thursday, September 29, 2016

    Hey Will,

    Well, fall is definitely in the air these days and the crisp mornings, yellow leaves and fall smells have enveloped me in what I can only describe as my favourite season. Soon the snow will fly and your favourite season will be upon us. For now, though, I will savour everything that is fall and will remember all of what September was to our family when our world was perfect.

    For a few years now, September is the month Ben returns to university and Dad and I are confronted again with living alone in the house that for a long time was filled with all you boys and all the smelly stuff that is part of you guys. The best Septembers were when you were all here at home — three new school backpacks hanging in the closet, three new pairs of outdoor shoes in the vicinity of the front door and oodles of brand new socks after all the old tattered and mismatched ones with holes were silently thrown away before school started again. New socks… such a September right of passage…

    Sadly, this September should have been our first empty nest, Will, but life threw us that terrible tragedy 5 ½ years ago and we were robbed of precious time. A lifetime with you would never have been enough but oh, to have had more time… I’ve spent much of this month wondering where you’d be this first September after high school, and knowing of course that you’d be at UBC in the Okanangan – Just. Like. Ben. No one would be surprised as your idolization for Ben was no secret. You do know it drove your brother crazy but raining on his parade was what you loved to do and to do that at university would have been a proud feather in your cap.

    I’ve frequently thought about Kathleen too and hoped that she would be on the good side of your conscience; a reminder to you to make good choices. I have also thought a lot about your friends, Jordan and Brent, who are also at UBC in Kelowna and I just know that the three of you would be thick as thieves on that campus and that I’d be worrying myself crazy… then in the next breath wishing more than anything that it was true and that I had the chance to worry about you. Sigh. I’d give anything to have all of that. I was corresponding with Jordan mid September, wondering how he was doing, and when your name came up he, too, agreed that in a perfect world you’d be there with them. I reminded him that as an angel you were there looking out for them, keeping them safe and sharing in the fun. He replied that he knew you were. My heart smiles, Will, when I hear that your friends still keep you close. I hope that they will for all of their lives.

    Next weekend is Thanksgiving and Ben will be coming home. And Kathleen. And Brent. And Jordan. Ben who has adapted to being away from home and whom we are used to coming home and then going again, but for the others coming home having just spent their first September at university will be a bit more exciting. Not just for them, but for their parents and families, too. Dinner is always better when everyone is sitting around the table and we’re blessed that Justin is able to come for dinner frequently. Having Ben at home for Thanksgiving is something I look forward to very much. I count the days. I imagine in our perfect world that once in the driveway you’d pile out of the car on his coat tails leaving everything in the back seat and make a run for the front door thinking it was a race to get their first while he’d saunter in, leaving a trail of things he was bringing with him from the back seat. Of course, there’d be hugs and then to the refrigerator you’d both go only this time it would be a race to see who’d get there first. It’s difficult still to live with the reality that you won’t be returning home too, and the pining that my heart feels tugs heavily on my heartstrings sometimes still pulling me down to my knees.

    Instead, I know that you’ll be with us in spirit. That you’ll be sitting in your spot at the table. We’ll talk about you like we always do and we’ll be grateful for the times we did have together. We’ll reminisce about all of the Septembers that we did have and we’ll laugh and cry and eat turkey and mashed potatoes til our tummies are ready to explode. And then I’ll pick up all the dirty, new socks that will have littered the house whilst Ben is home…

    Love you, Willy. Like a bus full of brand new socks.

    Momxo

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  • Sixteen Candles on an Angel Food Cake

    third birthday
    Will’s Third Birthday

    October 14, 2014,

     

     

     

    Happy Heavenly Birthday Will,

     

    Upon waking this morning and with you ever present in my mind, the first words out of my mouth as I looked out my bedroom window and up to the sky were my birthday wishes for you. Today is your 16th birthday and I am saving today just for you.

     

    So much has happened in a week, since my last letter. It was so great to have Ben home from University for Thanksgiving; gosh, I miss him (his mess, not so much) and I was grateful for having both Justin and Ben at the table for our turkey dinner on Sunday. You were there too, in the middle of the four of us lighting up our table by candlelight.

     

    Unfortunately, Thanksgiving was far from the minds of Nana and my Uncle and cousins and family as they are in the midst of missing their beautiful sister, wife, mom and grandmother. Auntie Barb succumbed to her battle with cancer early on Saturday morning and has left all of us with all of those questions that have no answers. I remember it as if it were yesterday, those first days after losing you. All the numbness and the pain, the disbelief and the wishing that it were just a bad dream. It STILL feels like that. I drove to Medicine Hat on Friday wanting desperately to see her and to be there for Nana. I wanted to tell Auntie Barb that you’d be waiting for her, and that you’d make her smile and take her to Papa D. She beat me to it Will – as soon as I took her hand in my own and before I could speak, she told me she’d be seeing you soon and that she hoped I wouldn’t be too sad. If I could have traded places with her I would have. I told her that and in her wise and barely audible words she told me life didn’t work like that. I returned home Sunday morning wanting so very badly to see Dad and your brothers and to find the comfort I needed amongst them and memories of you in our home on Thanksgiving and your birthday.

     

    Today I think about you being 16. I wonder what you’d look like, how long your hair would be or whether you’d want it short. I wonder how tall you would be and what your voice would sound like all grown up. I wonder how big your feet would be and if you’d be wearing a hat or a toque today. I wonder if you’d be shaving, and if you would have a girlfriend. I wonder if Kathleen would show up after school today with a bag full of your favourite candy and if today would have been the day you’d have passed your driver’s test.

     

    I smile knowing only that you’d be handsome as ever with the bluest eyes in the land. I smile knowing that you’d be taller than me, and that your feet would be large. I know you’d be over the moon happy today, happy to be 16 and the centre of attention and happy to be driving like your friends. While I was walking Finn this morning I thought about what kind of car you might have up there. Whether it was an expensive racecar type that boys dream about or a ski van. Pondering those thoughts for a few minutes it suddenly came to me that you’d probably have the same vehicle as Ben. A truck just like his… probably even the same color… and I think Ben might actually be happy about that too.

     

    Today I will visit Heaven’s Gate and I will place a painted rock under your tree there. Tonight we will have angel food cake with strawberries and whipped cream just like we would have had if you were here with us. Instead I imagine that today Auntie Barb might just bake you the best angel food cake ever and that she’d ice it with that really fluffy white icing that only Nana D could make.

     

    Happy Sixteen, Willy. I am sending you love and wishes and hand blown kisses all day.

     

    Love you like a bus and a birthday truck just like Ben’s.

     

     

    Momxo 

     

     

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  • My Blue Crayon

    bluecrayon

    December 5, 2019

    My Sweet Will,

    Blue.

    My favourite color for as long as I can remember.

    The color of your eyes and yes, the color of the sky on a beautiful sun-kissed day.

    You are undeniably our little Mr Blue Sky but sometimes blue is used to describe feelings of sadness and these December days are quite blue for me, Willy. It’s not surprising at this time of year to harbour these feelings — we know this well, for every book on grief, every counsellor we spoke to and every parent walking with us on this journey will attest that that is true. Of course, it is. Missing a loved one over the holidays can certainly conjure up a dark blue cloud of sad that can sometimes, for some, make December unbearable.

    For me, December feels like a magnifying glass pointed at the empty chair. Your absence is palpable, Will … sometimes it screams at me and try as I do to search for the silver lining sometimes there are days when I just have to succumb to these blue feelings and I retreat to a place within. I go quietly to that sacred place in my heart where the very best memories live, where you live and where I feel closest to you. I pray to God to help me through the darkness and ask him to watch over me as I sit there for a bit. Long enough to get lost in all those perfectly ordinary days that we shared but not too long that I would forget how to pull myself up. You know this place well, Willy… it’s where we learned to dance between what was and what is. My heart reminds me that grief and sadness are the price of love and that I am feeling blue because I love you and I miss you.

    Sure, the hustle and bustle of December is here and…

    I’ve yet to pull out the Christmas boxes, but I will.

    I’ve yet to put up the tree, but I will.

    I’ll bake little gingerbread boys, like I always do.

    I’ll play Christmas music and sing out loud, like I always do.

    I’ve yet to make my shopping list and venture out to the shops, but I will.

    I’ll wrap gifts and plan our Christmas dinner, like I always do.

    And, all the while I will miss you every second of every minute. Like I always do.

    But, for today and maybe even tomorrow I will dance with you and not worry about the list. When it feels right I’ll be ready to return to the hustle and bustle of December feeling recharged and ready to go. You will urge me to go, reminding me that it is what you’d want me to do. With your gentle nudge I will get busy and “bring on” Christmas like we always do. I will trust that everything will get done to the best of my ability and that what will be this December, will be exactly what it should be. I will be present for those that are my world — Dad and Ben and Justin and Amy and Finn — knowing that together is the best place to be and knowing also that you’ll be smack dab in the middle of all of it. My beautiful family and my friends that feel like family will be close in my thoughts and I will let them all know how grateful I am for their love, their continued support and for their friendship. They really are the best gifts.

    You are my blue crayon, Will, and I love you more than a blue sky day and a bus full of blue crayons.

    Momxo

    Bluewill

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  • Thank God For Pockets

    Wednesday, August 19, 2015 Dear Will, This summer has been full of thoughts and memories of you. Your little “signs” are abundant and when I think about them I can’t help but smile. It’s crazy how many heart shaped rocks I have found and collected this summer; my pockets bursting each time I arrive back home after a doggie walk with Finn or a bike ride to the river. On our vacation in Maui the heart shaped pieces of coral would, of course, find their way to the pockets of my beach tote and at the end of each day I’d add the coral hearts to the growing line down the middle of the table where we’d eat dinner by candlelight. Me and Dad and you. Wherever I was, it seemed I only had to look down and there were heart shaped signs of you at my feet. Holy cow, Will, I’ve quite a collection and when I empty my bursting pockets I am reminded of the things I’d find in your pockets while sorting laundry. Oh boy, there were Little Lego people and magnets, quarters and loonies that you’d find between the couch cushions where dad would often snooze (“searching” the couch was your cash cow!). I’d find fuzz balls and bits of rolled plasticine, erasers and lint covered candy and the occasional bottle cap or a torn piece of scrap paper with a friend’s phone number written on it so you could call them for a play date. All the random little treasures that were important for you to keep at the time found a safe place in your pockets. Just like my rocks.
    You, Kathleen and Kale on the beach in Montana
    While in Montana I was reminded of the many trips you and Kathleen would make in the golf cart to the store for Laffy Taffy and the iced tea cans you and Kale were collecting one summer. All the sand hill adventures are etched in my mind too — when you and your friends would scurry up the sand hills, rest for a minute or 5 seconds and then run full tilt or barefoot ski back down the hill and into the lake.
    Parker, You and Kale – Mud Monsters
    All the fun you had with Kale and Parker covering yourselves from eyeball to toe with mud and clay, swimming, building driftwood forts and how during your last summer you’d fallen in love with playing volleyball on the beach with the big kids and adults. Some of those memories still bring me to tears.   I’m back in Fernie now where there are memories of you all over the place. The ski hill, the ski shops that become bicycle shops in the summer, Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory where you had a preferred customer card from all the candy apples you bought (thanks to all the money you’d find in the couch?). Watching ski movies with Josh and how you loved to spend time with him and Andrea on and off your skis. I love it here, Will, because you loved this place. Come next week I’ll return home to our Redwood home where summer memories of you will live forever . I am reluctant to look beyond next week as September 2nd would have been the beginning of your last year of high school. My heart cannot go there yet. For now I will summon and enjoy the many summer memories of you and reminisce in what was. I look forward to each and every little sign you send my way and will continue to fill my pockets with as much as I can. Thank God for pockets. Love you, Willy. Like a bus full of pockets. Momxo

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0 Comments

  1. Beautiful you are sweet sister of mine and we are thinking of you …and Will… as this is a special day and you must remember you are always the greatest mom in our eyes as well as your sons’ eyes! Love you like a sandwich with a lil dillwilly on the side as well xoxo
    One World…Lotsa Love!

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  2. ‘Don’t be ashamed to weep; ’tis right to grieve. Tears are only water, and flowers, trees and fruit can not grow without water.’ Happy Mothers Day Joni. Sending you love and hugs tonight. xoxo

    Reply

    1. Kaylie, those words… those words so beautiful and so true. I really needed to hear them. Thank you. And, Happy Mom’s Day to you, too. Hug your precious three boys tight and then hug them again for me. Thanks for your love. And your hugs, too.

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  4. Dear Joni:
    You write so beautifully. It’s probably because you are really “talking” to Will that it is so full that unmistakable “mom talk” to her son. I certainly did think of you on Mother’s Day knowing that you would be hurting and longing for the Mother’s Days when Will was still here. You are and always will be his mom; that part never changes. That mothering shaped him and made him the awesome boy he was. Wishing you peace and hugs Joni. Take care💜💜

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  5. Just thinking of what a wonderful mom you were/are… If I were your son looking down(which I know he is) I would bring sunshine to that patch of seeds and my sun would have a great big smile… Just think of the joy of being a mom has fulfilled your life. Fast forward I am sure you will be the kind of grandma a child would love to call nana or gama or what ever… I know this might not help now but I am proud of my grandson being proud of his mom for being a bed maker. Thank God we our other kids and family to help us though our days of grief. Thinking of you lots. LYLAS (love you like a sister) Carol

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